Tattooed Holidays (Tattooed)

Chapter 1

Pete

Who doesn’t love Easter. All the chocolate, bunnies, and cute baby animals.

How can anybody hate that? It's like having fun. Thank God, my husband found me when he did. He might have perished from boredom. He says he doesn’t like Easter, but I think he just hasn’t had a good Easter.

I bet he has never taken part in an Easter egg hunt or went to a farm and cuddled the baby animals.

I bet he hasn’t even eaten his weight in chocolate eggs and bunny shaped marshmallows at eight am.

Our first Easter together was a smorgasbord of germs. We still haven’t figured out who gave us what felt like the bubonic plague, but it had us fighting for our lives and the bathroom for the full week of Easter.

It was truly the first test of our marriage.

I resembled Gollum, except the only ring I was coveting was porcelain.

Gavin lost almost ten pounds that week. When he turned sideways, he disappeared.

It took me two weeks to get his soft belly back.

Our second Easter together wasn’t much better, well, it was better in the fact that we weren’t sick, but there still wasn’t any pastel colors, Easter egg hunt, or special Easter meals.

No, instead we had to attend a funeral. The old man who rented the building next to Savage Ink, I think his name was Albert or something.

His store was one of those old timey shoe cobblers.

He was a sweet old man, so Gavin shut up the shop and we all attended his funeral.

His family was there, children and grandchildren all came together to celebrate his life.

We learned he’d had his shop for over fifty years, was married for sixty, and his wife was absolutely adorable.

It just didn’t feel right to celebrate anything after such a somber day.

Well, that changes this year. I am going to give Gavin a full weekend Easter extravaganza.

I’ve already planted the chocolate around the house and the garden for the hunt and I’ve got tickets for a petting farm later this afternoon.

The festivities start with an Easter breakfast of homemade pancakes smothered in chocolate sauce, served inside a chocolate easter egg boat, and topped with whipped cream and sprinkles.

Carefully placing my masterpiece on my newly acquired bunny plate, I try not to drop it as I shake my ass, singing along to the god that is Adam Levine.

“Sugar, yes please.” I sing into the spoon I made the pancakes with.

Wearing nothing but white lace panties with a little fluffy bunny tail and matching ears, I dance around our kitchen putting on my own concert.

Figuring it is smarter to move away from the breakfast table, I wiggle my ass to the other side of the kitchen to start the coffee machine.

What better way to start the Easter holidays than a sugar rush and a cute little bunny husband to take your energy out on?

“Yeah, you show me good loving, make it alright, need a little sweetness in ya life.” My falsetto isn’t great, but what I lack in talent I make up for in enthusiasm and performance value.

“Watch you don’t hurt yourself there, Jellybean.

” Gavin’s deep, sleep filled voice startles me mid flow, making me stumble against the counter and spill the creamer in my hand.

Thankfully, before my face can meet the tiled floor-again-my husband's deliciously furry arms are around me, holding me against his big, barrel chest. Nuzzling against my neck he whispers “Be vewy vewy quiet, I’m hunting Wabbit,” in a surprisingly accurate Elmer Fudd impression that has me bursting out laughing.

“That was so good.” I manage to get out between gasps and snorts.

I have to wipe my tears of laughter from my cheeks before I can look at my hubby.

Gavin just watches me, cackling, with a fond smile on his face.

Not many people get to see the goofy side of my husband and I treasure every single time he lets it out around me.

“So, what's this all about?” He asks, indicating the abundance of chocolate all over the kitchen then flicking the tip of my bunny ears and tilting his head toward his yummy breakfast. “Is this your attempt at giving me diabetes?” He asks with a smirk on his lips, earning a smack to the arm for that.

“Don’t even joke about that, old man,” I tease.

“This is your Easter breakfast. I’ve decided that you clearly have no idea how fun Easter can be.

So I’m going to show you. An Easter eggstravaganza!

Get it? Egg-stravaganza.” I nudge his side with my elbow and walk around him, making sure to shake my bunny tail butt at him before jumping up on the breakfast table beside his breakfast. He watches me with renewed interest now.

He must have woken up and come straight downstairs to find me.

In only a pair of loose fitting sweatpants, he pads bare foot toward me.

Caging me in with his arms either side of my body, Gavin runs his nose up the column of my throat.

“I do have the taste for something sweet.” He growls, nipping at my throat and making me moan.

“But, I made you Easter breakfast,” I pout, it’s only a half-assed attempt to stop him and he knows it.

In one swift move Gavin grabs my ass and hauls me off the counter, leaving me no choice but to wrap my legs around him as he carries me out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Before I can stop him Gavin lands hard on the couch with me in his lap.

The dull crunch puts a pause on his teasing mouth still sucking and nibbling at my neck.

“Umm, what was that?” He asks pulling back to look up at me.

My cheeks redden as I shrug innocently. Shifting his big body to one side, a firm grip still on my ass cheek, Gavin reaches his other hand under his body and produces a foil wrapped chocolate bunny, or what used to be a chocolate bunny.

It’s very squished now. Raising one single eyebrow at me, Gavin holds up the deformed rabbit, peels the foil back and takes a massive bite of it.

I gasp in shock. “You can’t eat the chocolate before the hunt even begins.” I scold him.

“Says who?” He asks, licking his lips.

“Says…says the Easter bunny.” That seems to only make him laugh.

“Well, bears eat bunnies no?” Gavin’s tone lowers and his words go right to my dick.

“I am feeling kind of hungry. Definitely for something sweet. Perhaps I do need to hunt a naughty wabbit.” Oh fuck, that’s hot.

My dick instantly chubs up and I grind against his lap.

With nothing on under his sweatpants, I can see how hard he is for me.